Bubbly
by CatsBalletHarveySpecter
Summary: Harvey is hosting a house party and Donna shows up with a familiar face. The two share a bottle of wine and a heart-to-heart on Harvey's bathroom floor while avoiding the chaos of the party. (Pre-canon).


_ ~ "If you want to improve, be content to be thought foolish and stupid." ~_

**Bubbly**

**.**

**.**

"Donna, are you bringing a date to the dinner party on Saturday?" Louis asks as he rushes into her office, his cheeks flushed.

"What party?" She asks, peering up at him from behind her pile of paperwork.

"What do you mean what party? Harvey's party of course," he replies, taking it upon himself to sit across from her.

"Harvey's having a party?" She stares back at him, perplexed.

"Alright you've had your fun, now are you bringing a date because if not, there's this young gentlemen at my mud club that I think would make an excellent suitor," he smiles.

"Louis, I have no idea what you're even talking about."

"Wait, you really didn't know?"

"I still have no idea what this conversation is about," she says, dropping her pen and focusing her attention on him.

"Well this is embarrassing I totally thought you knew."

"Knew what, Louis?"

"Harvey and his girlfriend are hosting a dinner party this weekend," he says, not daring to meet her penetrating gaze.

"Oh," she mumbles to herself. She knew Harvey had been seeing some blonde, Melissa or Melina or something along those lines, for a few weeks but she didn't think it was serious. At least not dinner party serious. And the nerve of him, to invite their colleagues and not invite her, as if she wouldn't find out.

Things between them had been relatively back to normal since the whole Stephen Huntley fiasco, so finding out he was hosting a dinner party from Louis was a massive slap in the face. She'd only found out he was seeing someone because Rachel had told her, and she'd seen the women once in passing. She was young, perky and blonde - the type Harvey liked to love and leave. Which is why she was surprised that as the month neared its end, they were still seeing each other.

She wasn't jealous. Donna Paulsen didn't get jealous. Besides, she imagined Harvey would be bored of his latest weekly muse soon enough and they would go back to toying the line between flirty and professional. Only, now it seemed he was hosting a dinner party with the woman. To make matters even worse, he was hosting a dinner party with the woman and she wasn't invited to attend.

"I'm sure he meant to invite you and he just forgot!" Louis rushes say, but he knows it's too late, he's already put his foot in his mouth.

"It's fine Louis," she managed to say with a forced smile, "really."

"Sorry to have bothered you," he apologizes, seeing himself out and flashing her one last pity-smile.

She grabs her pen and continues with her work, desperate to focus on anything that wasn't related to Harvey Specter. He was allowed to be happy. She wanted him to be happy, and if that meant serving tiny appetizers while mingling with a small blonde on his arm, then so be it.

She tries to tell herself she isn't angry because he was hosting a dinner with another woman, that she's angry because he didn't invite her; but deep down, she knows it's a mixture of both. She's angry he's excluded her and for some reason unbeknownst to her, she's angry he's happy with someone else.

Anger brewing, she tosses her pen back down on her desk and storms out of her office, the clacking of her heels echoing the pounding in her chest as she approached his office door. She enters without knocking and marches over to his desk, allowing both of her hands to linger on the edge of the glass table until he looks up at her with pursed lips.

She looks irritated, her foot impatiently tapping, her arms folded over her cream coloured dress, her chest popped out ever so slightly and drawing his eyes to the teasing line of cleavage just above her hands.

"Donna," he smirks, the coy smile that's plastered across face begging to be met with a swift roll of her eyes.

"You're having a dinner party," she states rather than asks.

"I-"

"And you didn't think to invite me?!"

"Donna, can I explain?" He asks, panic flashing across his face before he regains his lawyer-like composure and he stands, rounding his desk to stand next to her.

"I would love to hear you try," she scoffs, her arms still folded over her chest as she turns to face him.

"Well-" he pauses, looking for the right way to phrase what he wants to say.

"Since when do you host dinner parties anyways?" She fired at him, pacing a few steps from his desk.

"Melina wanted to meet some of my coworkers so I figured—" he pauses again, making his way over to the couch and taking a seat on the leather arm.

"I just didn't think you would want to come," he adds, his explanation lacking details she was desperate to know.

"Why wouldn't I want to come?" She snaps, angry with his inability to man up and tell her the real reason why he was avoiding having her attend this party.

"Well, you know… it's just going to be Mike and Rachel and Louis and Sheila, I didn't think you would want…"

"To be surrounded by couples?" Her eyes grow wide when she realizes what his reasoning was and she feels her blood begin to boil.

"Well," he shrugs, embarrassed to have vocalized his own thought.

"I'll have you know, I'm seeing someone," she lies, hoping he can't see through her facade.

"You are?"

"Yes," she states confidentiality.

"Oh, I didn't know."

"It's pretty new, so…"

"You should bring him," he suggests, watching as her eyes grow wider, "unless it's still too new."

"It's not," she calls out defensively, "We'll be there."

"Great, Saturday at 8."

"Great," she says, seeing herself out of his office.

He watches as she storms away, his gaze fixed on her swaying hips, his mind racing. He hadn't known she was seeing someone. It wasn't like it bothered him, especially when he told himself he wanted her to be happy, but he was usually kept in the loop and knew what was going on in her life. And not knowing, well, that was bothering him. At least, that's what he tried to convince himself.

Things changed after Stephen. They stopped sharing details of their personal lives and they spent less time talking about their lives outside of the office. Just when he thought they were getting back to being them, Melina came into his life and she began to keep him at arms length again.

He liked Melina, she was the first girl who'd piqued his interest for longer than an evening and she was easy on the eyes. But, he knew himself well enough to know there was no future with her. Her stories rambled on, she snored obnoxiously loud and she drank her coffee black which he found strange. Most importantly, she wasn't the kind of women he saw himself settling down with. She wasn't _the one_.

He watches as Donna turns into her office and heads back to his desk, sliding into his leather seat with a heavy sigh. She was seeing someone and she hadn't even told him. He was hosting a dinner party with a woman he couldn't see a future with. Somehow they had gotten to this place where the toed around one another, where their working relationship took precedence over their personal one and where he resented the fact that she was becoming a stranger.

He wasn't sure why he lied and told her he hadn't invited her because he didn't think she would want to attend when he knows the real reason is that having her there would serve as a reminder of everything they didn't have. Everything they could have.

If he'd only found the strength to tell her that this was his way of trying to move on, maybe he wouldn't be anxiously picking at his nails thinking about the man she was bringing to his dinner party. A dinner party he was hosting with his girlfriend. A dinner party he was now dreading because she would be there, on the arm of another man.

He knows he shouldn't be jealous, jealousy was not a look he enjoyed; but, he couldn't help himself. It was instinctual when it came to Donna. He had this unexplainable need to protect her, to want what was best for her. Deep down he knows this is more than wanting what was best for his friend, this was rooted in something much larger than his desire to make her happy. He was inexplicably jealous, when he had no right to be. This dinner was going to be a disaster, but he would fake a smile and pretend to laugh at whatever joke Melina would tell and convince himself this was what he wanted, that this was what was best for them.

She lets out a frustrated sigh as she digs through her purse for her phone upon returning to her office. She was such a fool. Why did she lie and tell Harvey she was seeing someone? She hadn't gone on a proper date since Stephen and now she had to find someone to bring to this dinner party. Someone who knew her well enough to help her with the charade she'd set in motion.

She could always take Louis up on his offer, bring the potential suitor he'd mentioned but then Harvey would know that she lied. And she couldn't have that. He was moving on, he was hosting dinner parties for God's sake, she couldn't be the pathetic one who was trapped in their will they won't they routine. She couldn't be pitied by him, not after Stephen. She wouldn't be pitied by him.

Scrolling through her contacts list she searches for a potential last minute date, shaking her head as she continues through the list. Her thumb hovers over Mitchell's name as she contemplates. She could ask him, he knew her well enough to fool Harvey into thinking they'd gotten back together and he was always good for a good time. But he wasn't Harvey's biggest fan and she doubts he would even agree. In the end, she decides asking him can't hurt and she sends him a quick text, asking if he had time to meet her for coffee.

She didn't even want to attend this dinner party. The last thing she wanted was to watch him move on with someone else, but she'd made a scene and now she had no choice. She had to go and she had to pretend to be happy for him.

.

.

She strolls into the midtown coffee shop just before noon, head held high, navy trench coat wrapped around her. She spots him in an old booth near the window and he waves her over with a small smile. The coffee shop she'd selected was one of her favourites, a small place hidden next to a used book shop that had an exposed red brick interior and old white tables and chairs. She'd discovered it when she first moved to the city and often revisited when she craved the familiarity that the shop's blueberry scone offered.

"Donna," he gets up and places a gentle kiss on her cheek.

"Mitchell," she smiles, plopping herself into the vacant seat.

"I have to say, I was surprised when you called, it's been a while," he says as he reclaims his seat.

"It has, how have you been?"

"You know, company is really taking off so, busy as ever, you know what that's like."

"Don't I ever," she chuckles, sliding her bag into the seat next to her and staring across the table at her former boyfriend. Time had been kind to him and he looked good, even with the beard he was sporting.

"So, am I supposed to believe that you decided to call out of the blue? Or is there a reason you wanted me to meet you here today?" He asks bluntly. He always had been the type to get straight to the point.

"What if I just missed you?" She flirts, tucking a stray curl behind her ear.

"Donna," he cocks his head, a devilishly knowing smile forming on his face.

"Fine. I need a favour."

"What kind of favour?" He winks and she playfully smacks his arm over the table, "not that kind," she laughs, grateful he'd help rid her of her nerves with his fooling around.

"I need a date," she states, her eyes nervously roaming his face.

"You're going to have to be more specific…"

"Look, Harvey's hosting this dinner party and I told him I was bringing someone. Only, I'm not seeing anyone and I figured my date should be someone who knows me and well, you know me. So, I was wondering if maybe you would be willing to come with me?"

"You want me to come with you to a dinner party hosted by Harvey Specter?" He stares back at her blankly, blinking once slowly, twice slowly.

"Yes," she shrugs sheepishly.

"You're still in love with him…"

"It's not like that…"

"It must be like that Donna, if you're willing to go through all this trouble just to make the man what… jealous?"

"Mitchell… it isn't like that…" she tries to explain but she can see he's no longer listening.

"Isn't it? Hasn't it always been like that?"

"Forget it, just forget I ever asked," she sighs, motioning to grab her bag and get up.

"Donna, wait," he calls, and she stays seated.

"I was happy you called. My mind is telling me not to get involved but part of me has always wanted to make that son-of-a-Bitch jealous so, tell me the real reason you want me to do this, and I'll try and help you."

"He's seeing someone, this blonde," she begins to explain without hesitation. There was once a time when she had a hard time admitting how she felt about Harvey, even to herself but lately she was tired of pretending. She was tired of lying to herself, trying to convince herself that they were nothing more than friends when she knew, Harvey would always have a piece of her heart.

"I didn't think it was serious but they're hosting this dinner party and well…"

"You're jealous," Mitchell states.

"I'm not jealous, I don't get jealous."

"Donna," he stares across the table at her with knowing eyes.

"I just want him to be happy. But I want him to be happy with me," she finally admits, expelling the breath she hadn't realized she was holding.

"Finally," he smiles, "alright, tell you what, I'll help you, but only because I would love to make that man jealous."

"Really? You'll help?"

"Yes. But if we're doing this, we're going to do it right, give me your phone," he instructs.

"What, why?"

"Do you really think he's going to believe we're back together if you haven't posted a picture of us yet?"

He rounds the table and slides into the seat next to her, taking her phone and holding it out in front of them. He snaps three photos, two of them smiling and a third of him pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek.

"There," he hands her back her cell phone, "now, let's talk about how we're going to make him jealous, shall we?"

"Why are you doing this?" She asks, slightly confused. Never in a million years had she expected him to be so willing to help, especially once she told him Harvey was involved.

"Because you asked me?"

She tilts her head and sends him a look that tells him she doesn't believe him so he elaborates,

"Because believe it or not, I still care about you and if doing this lets me spend an evening getting to know you again while also getting to make that asshole think we're back together, who I am to turn that down."

"Mitchell," she says softly, reaching to place a palm on his forearm, "I don't want to give you the wrong idea…"

"I'm a big boy Donna, I'll be fine."

.

.

She'd changed her outfit three times before settling on a dark pair of jeans and a casual cream turtleneck, her soft curls tucked behind her ears, lips painted red. Mitchell was muling about in her living room, telling some story about the guys in his office she couldn't care to listen to. Her date had arrived less than a half hour ago and she was already considered cracking open a bottle of wine. It had been so long she'd nearly forgotten how self-involved Mitchell was, especially when he started telling stories about his job. Luckily, he was content to talk while she continued to get ready, so she had no need to respond or to attempt to tell him more about her.

Giving herself a quick once over in the bathroom mirror, she puckers her lips and deems herself ready. There was no backing out now, she was committed to going. After her brief run-in with Harvey at the elevators the day prior, where he confirmed that she and her date could still make it, she'd been on edge. What if this was a mistake? What if he really was happy with this woman and she was being selfish in dragging an old flame to his dinner party? Harvey had never been the type to settle down, what if she was imposing on his first and only attempt to have a real, adult relationship? If that was the case, she decided she would gracefully bow out and try her hardest to be happy for him. She would try to mend their broken friendship instead of their non-existent relationship.

She joins Mitchell in the living room and blushes as he looks her over.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," he grins, extending an arm for her to take.

"Ready?" she asks as she slips her palm into the crook of his arm.

"Let's do this."

.

.

"Have you seen my navy tie?" Harvey asks as he bursts into the kitchen where Melina was delicately laying out napkins.

"What's wrong with the one you're wearing?" she asks, peering down at his maroon tie from over the kitchen island.

"It's not the right tie, I need the blue one," he lets out a frustrated sigh before turning and heading back to his closet to search.

.

.

_"Donna, you don't have to do that…" he says as he watches her rummage through his fridge to find more cheese for the platter he had set out on the counter._

_"You're right, I don't but then who would do it?" she says with a playful smile as she continues to rummage through the fridge._

_His apartment was crawling with co-workers from the DA's office and Harvey had been a mess all week in anticipation of being volunteered to host a birthday party for one of their coworkers, Max. Donna, being Donna, had taken it upon herself to help him plan and coordinate, and once the party kicked off she naturally stepped into the role of the co-host._

_He rounds the island and stands behind her, holding items as she instructs without complaint until she's found what she's looking for and closes his fridge with a smile._

_"I can't believe Cameron volunteered me to host this…" he whines as she sets the cheese down on the counter and steps towards him, her hands instinctively reaching for his navy tie._

_He gives himself to her touch as she adjusts his tie and he can't help but notice she's a little bit more done up today than at the office. She was wearing a form fitting navy dress that was almost the same shade as his tie, a happy accident, and she had glitter on her eyes that made the soft gold flecks in them stand out. Not that he was looking at them. It wasn't like that between them, and not for his lack of trying. He and Donna had been working together for over six months and they flirted heavily, but she had a strict rule about getting involved with co-workers and despite his protests that he was a rule-breaker, they never ventured past the flirty banter._

_"There," she says with a soft smile, satisfied with his tie._

_"What would I do without you," he flirts, placing a hand on the counter beside her hip._

_"Have guests that die of hunger," she teases, stepping away from him to refill the platter she was focused on before he found her in the kitchen. He watches as she fixes the plate and makes a joke about her arrangement skills which causes her to laugh and reach for his forearm. His body tenses at her touch before his eyes trail from where her hand is touching his arm to her eyes, eyes that meet his with an earnest curiosity._

_"You two have a lovely home," an older women she recognizes as one of their co-worker's wives says, interrupting the moment._

_"Oh - It's not, I don't live here," Donna rushes to explain, pulling her hand away and resuming her task._

_"I should bring this out there," she gestures towards the platter in her hand and the room packed with people. Excusing herself, she settles in the living room with a wine glass, listening to a fellow secretary talk about how she plans on improving her filing system in the new year. He watches as she walks away, wanting nothing more than to follow after her and spend the evening by her side._

_At some point in the evening she finds herself trapped in a conversation with Max, the party's guest of honour. Max couldn't be much older than Harvey, had dirty blonde hair and a nice smile, but he was arrogant and cocky, two things Donna hated. At least when Harvey was cocky she found it charming, when this guy spoke she found herself wishing for an entire bottle of wine, rather than just a glass._

_Harvey watched from across the room where he was chatting with Cameron, jealousy coursing through his veins. He grimaced as Max tried to flirt with her and as Donna tried not to roll her eyes at whatever he was saying. At least she seemed uninterested, but his colleague's attempts to flirt with her still got under his skin and before he can help himself, he's excusing himself from his conversation and making his way across the room._

_"Sorry Max, can I borrow Donna for a second?" he asks, slipping an arm around her shoulders._

_"Um, yeah sure," Max says, feigning annoyance._

_"Thanks," Harvey smiles as he leads Donna away from the party and towards his home office._

_"Thank you," she smiles as he drops his arm from her shoulder and leads her inside, closing the door behind them._

_"It was the least I could do. You looked bored," he snickers, moving to his decanter and fetching them each a glass of scotch._

_"I was. I can't stand someone who is so full of themselves. We get it, you're 'great'" she says sarcastically while accepting the glass and taking it upon herself to sit at his desk._

_"Is that what you think of me?" he asks softly, his voice uncertain._

_"Harvey-"_

_"Do you think I'm full of myself?"_

_"You're different than him."_

_"Why?"_

_"I- I don't know. You're more compassionate, you care about your work. All that guy cares about is getting paid and having some fancy title he hasn't earned. You, you're a hard worker. And as much as you pretend you don't, you care."_

_He staring now, his eyes locked on hers for a moment that is far too intimate and intense for two people who are just friends. She's the first to look away, clearing her throat and standing,_

_"Anyways, thank you for saving me."_

_"You know I would do anything for you, right?"_

_"I do," she smiles before the two of them silently rejoin the party._

.

.

When they step off the elevator in front of Harvey's apartment she pauses to draw in a deep breath before slipping her fingers between Mitchell's and watching as he rings the bell.

It had been ages since she last rang the doorbell, usually letting herself in with her key and there was something about waiting for him to come to the door, it felt wrong.

Mitchell squeezes her hand reassuringly as they wait for the door to be answered, her smile wavering with each passing second.

Harvey answers the door in a pale blue dress shirt with a matching navy tie, sleeves rolled to the elbows, hair slicked back. His eyes drift from Donna to the man holding her hand and they widen when he realizes she's standing in his door, hand in hand with Mitchell.

"Donna," he greets in a tone he reserves specifically for her.

"Mitchell," he adds, his voice much flatter.

"Thanks for having us Harv," Mitchell extends a hand which Harvey reluctantly shakes, making a mental note to clock the guy if he ever called him "Harv" again.

"I didn't know you two were back together," he says as he steps aside and lets them into the apartment.

"Great news, isn't it?" Mitchell smiles, giving Donna's shoulder a gentle squeeze before helping her out of her jacket.

"Great," Harvey mouths to himself as he turns away from them.

"Donna," Louis calls from behind Harvey, who takes their jackets and excuses himself to his spare room.

"You look ravishing, and who's your friend?"

"Louis, you remember Mitchell, right?" She introduces them as they join Louis and Sheila in the living room.

"Of course, how are you?" Louis smiles, extending his hand shake Mitchell's.

"And this is Louis' girlfriend, Shelia," Donna introduces as Mitchell steps forward and places a kiss on her cheek and tells her it's nice to meet her.

"Harvey said to help ourselves to drinks, everything's in the kitchen," Louis explains as they settle on the couches.

"I'll grab us some," she tells Mitchell, smoothing her skirt before excusing herself to find something much stronger than the wine in front of Louis.

She's humming a Christmas tune as she enters the kitchen and helps herself to two scotch glasses before venturing towards the island to retrieve the scotch when she realizes she isn't alone.

"My god! I'm so sorry I didn't even see you there!" She exclaims when she spots the blonde preparing her own drink across the island.

"Hi, I don't think we've formally been introduced, I'm Melina," the blonde extends her hand for Donna to take.

"Donna," she says, shaking her freshly manicured hand briefly.

"Well Donna, it's so nice to meet some of Harvey's colleagues," she says with a smile and Donna can't tell if it's genius or forced.

"The same goes for you, he's told us a lot about you," she lies, she knew absolutely nothing about this woman.

"There you are!" Melina exclaims when Harvey joins them in the kitchen, his eyes flitting from his girlfriend to his, to _his_ Donna.

"Just making sure everything was alright in here," he says as Melina makes her way over to him and lets her palm settle on his chest.

"Everything's great! I was just getting to know your friend Donna," she smirks before leaning up on her toes and placing a kiss that was far from chaste to his lips. Donna turns away, pouring herself two glasses of scotch and excusing herself to rejoin the party. She got the feeling Harvey's girlfriend wasn't her biggest fan and she wasn't looking to stir up any problems at this dinner. Mike and Rachel had since joined the group and already introduced themselves to her date so she quickly settles into a conversation with Rachel about their upcoming plans for the weekend.

Harvey and his girlfriend join them shortly after and the room fills with small talk about the office. Sheila asks how long Donna and Mitchell have been together to which they both respond they'd recently gotten back together after a break. Harvey eavesdrops on the conversation while pretending to listen to something Mike was saying, muttering to himself over and over that she chose him, not Mitchell.

He avoids talking to both her and Mitchell but finds himself seated directly across from her at dinner and offers her a timid smile.

"So, how long have you all worked at the firm?" The young blonde asks as they all begin to dig into their salads.

"Since I was a first-year associate," Louis proudly boasts, "Only place I would ever consider working."

"What about you two?" she gestures towards Mike and Rachel with a smile.

"Almost six years for me, and Rachel started as a paralegal, but now she's an incredible associate."

"Mike," she blushes, always the modest one between the pair.

"He's right, that's incredible," Melina smiles, "you should be proud."

"What about you Donna?" She asks, turning her attention to the redhead who was listening to something her date whispered in her ear.

Harvey watches as Mitchell leans over and whispers in Donna's ear, his fist clenching beneath the table as he tries to hear what is being said, his dates voice becoming background noise.

Donna fails to hear the initial question, too preoccupied with stealing a glimpse of Harvey's reddened face as Mitchell leans closer to her to make a comment about how nice Harvey's apartment was, and how Harvey kept stealing glances of her.

"She and Harvey joined us about twelve years ago," Louis answers for her, causing all heads to swerve towards him.

"Oh, you two… worked together before?" She asks, directing her question towards Harvey more than at Donna.

"At the DA's office," she responds, watching as Melina's face flushes.

"I had no idea you two had known each other for so long," she says with a fake enthusiasm and a forced smile, her hand finding Harvey's thigh with a thud beneath the table.

"Going on thirteen years," Harvey says while offering Donna a shy smile.

Donna returns the gesture, smiling across the table at Harvey as Melina clears her throat and suggests they serve the main course.

This was the first time she'd ever really spoken to Harvey's girlfriend, but once again she got the vibe that Melina wasn't her biggest fan so she decided it would be best that for the rest of the dinner, she downplay the past she and Harvey shared.

Dinner is served and soon light-hearted conversation and laughter fills the room. Louis and Donna get into an in depth conversation about the latest ballet to grace the national stage as Melina bonds with Rachel over a new up and coming restaurant on the Upper East Side, while Harvey was left to glare at Mitchell from across the table and enjoy his meal in silence.

"So, Mitchell was it?" He looks across the table at Donna's date and attempts to strike up a conversation.

"You know my name Harvey… but alright, we can play this game."

"I wasn't playing a game, I just couldn't remember if it was Mark or Mitchell, men tend to come and go but never seem to be good enough," Harvey smirks, squaring his shoulders.

"Right, well I think we're going to surpass the come and go part this time," Mitchell dead pans, staring back at Harvey with an unamused look.

"Sure," Harvey huffs, returning his attention to the meal on his plate.

He's so pissed off and angry with Mitchell's smugness that he doesn't notice Melina listening in as the men engage in what can only be interpreted as a pissing match over a woman who he had no right to be fighting for.

As the dinner wears on, Mitchell let's his hand fall on Donna's thigh as she laughs about a mundane joke he tells. She was glad she'd asked him to accompany her to dinner, she'd nearly forgotten how funny he was, or at least how funny he tried to be. And he was doing an excellent job of distracting her from the blonde that was draped all over Harvey.

Donna Paulsen did not get jealous. She repeats the mantra over in her mind but with each touch she witnesses, with each fake laugh from the blonde, she feels her resolve slowly slipping away.

She would not let herself fall down this rabbit hole. Not again.

"So, Donna, how long have you two been together?" Melina interrupts as Donna's laughter causes her to place an arm on Mitchell's forearm and Harvey's gaze follows her palm.

"A few months," Mitchell answers on Donna's behalf.

"We dated a few years back but the timing wasn't right. Lucky for us I think we've got it right this time," he adds, taking her hand over the table and giving her palm a gentle squeeze.

"How did you two meet?"

"It was at a coffee shop uptown actually, I was picking up a latté and this lovely lady happened to be waiting in line to order, and the rest is history," Mitchell answers again and Harvey's eyes find Donna's. He remembers this guy being an asshole, but he didn't recall him being so arrogant; talking over Donna every chance he got.

"That's so romantic," she sighs, opting to ignore the glares Harvey is throwing in Mitchell's direction and instead focusing on the couple seated across the table.

"Was it love at first sight?" She asks.

"I don't want to jinx things but-"

"I'm sorry are you ever going to let Donna speak?" Harvey interrupts, having seen enough of the Mitchell show.

"Harvey!" Melina scolds, "can I see you in the kitchen?"

Her question is more of a demand than an ask and Harvey reluctantly rises from the table and follows her into the kitchen, leaving the rest of their guests at the table in awkward silence.

Donna looks from Mitchell to the closed kitchen door and back down to her plate, anxiously shovelling lettuce into her mouth to avoid having to say anything.

"Can someone pass the rolls?" Louis asks one attempt to cut through the awkward tension lingering throughout the room.

.

"Are you kidding me Harvey?" Melina flails her arms over her head as she paces into the kitchen with Harvey trailing after her.

"What?" He says, choosing to pretend the scene in the dining room hadn't just happened, picking up an apple off the counter and rolling it from hand to hand.

"I knew you must have had a fling with your secretary, but what I didn't know was that you're still in love with her!"

"I'm not-" he begins to protest before the fluster sets in and he's unable to finish his sentence.

"Save it Harvey! It's bad enough you can't take your eyes off her but now you're defending her like you're some kind of knight in shining armour!"

"I wasn't defending her…"

"Then what the hell would you call what happened back there? She's spoken for Harvey! She doesn't need you to defend her and yet, you find the need to do it anyways!"

"Melina…"

"When we first met, I asked you if you two had a history when most of your work stories involved a woman named Donna, and you told me you didn't, that I had nothing to worry about."

"And you don't!" He yells from across the kitchen.

"Bullshit!" She screams back, turning away from him so he can't see the tears forming in her eyes.

"Look," she says as she turns back around, a sudden calmness in her voice, "I like you Harvey, I really do. But I can't be the other woman. So I need you to tell me and I need you to tell me right now, do you have feelings for Donna?"

"I-" he stutters, his eyes unable to meet hers as he fiddled with his own tie.

"That's all I need to hear. I think we're done here…"

"Melina, I never meant… I'm sorry," is all he manages to say before she's brushing past him and towards the exit.

"Do us both a favour, tell her someday," she says with a sad sigh before seeing herself out, not bothering to pass through the dining room on her way out the front door.

Harvey stares at the door with a blank expression, his hands falling limp at his sides. He knows he should feel remorse for what just happened, sad even for his loss. Melina was a wonderful woman and he just let her walk out of his life, literally, without hesitation.

He should feel upset, heartbroken, but instead all he feels is panic. Panic that she had been right. About his feelings for Donna. About the fact that she was spoken for. About the fact that his opportunity to be with her was vanishing.

He hated Stephen Huntley. He hated Mark Meadows. And this Mitchell guy made his blood boil. He always thought his jealousy was rooted in the way he cared for Donna. They were friends and he wanted what was best for her, therefore no man was good enough for her.

But that wasn't it. It had always been more than that, he just couldn't access it. Now here he was standing alone in his kitchen wearing the blue tie she bought him for their first work anniversary, wishing he could storm into the dining room and knock some sense into her date for failing to see how incredible she was.

Here he was standing alone in his kitchen too preoccupied thinking about Mitchell touching his secretary to realize his girlfriend had just walked out of his life.

.

.

When he finally pulls himself together and rejoins his guests, they had relocated to the couches in the living room. Louis intercepts him before he reaches the group and hands him a glass of scotch, asking him if everything was alright. He accepts the drink and mutters an excuse about Melina having to leave before he excused himself, grabbing a bottle of scotch on his way towards his bedroom.

The sounds of the party fade as he shuts the sliding door behind him with a heavy sigh, and for a moment the world is at a stand still. He knows he should go out and be a good host, but he needs a few moments to gather his thoughts before facing his colleagues.

He loved her.

But it was much more complicated than that.

What they had was unique, their working relationship blended with their personal one in a way that made him feel like they had everything.

Yet, he found himself wanting more.

Wanting everything.

He just wasn't sure he was willing to risk everything they had for a relationship he wasn't sure she even wanted.

Harvey Specter wasn't afraid to take risks.

But hell, he was terrified to risk losing Donna.

He turns away from the door and yelps, noticing Donna running her fingers along his dresser, staring back at him wide-eyed.

"Jesus Donna! You scared the shit out of me!"

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to intrude I just needed to…"

"Get away for a second?" He finishes her sentence for her.

"Something like that," she offers him a small smile, her hand still trailing along the edge of his dresser.

"Drink?" He gestures towards the bottle of scotch in his hand.

"I don't mind if I do," she says, reaching for the bottle and taking a swig from it.

"So, were you looking for something in particular or were you just snooping?" He asks with a cock of his head.

"Can you believe for as many times I've been to your place, I've never seen your bedroom?" She asks as she browses through the items on his side table.

Yes, he thinks to himself. Because he can't believe for as many times as she'd been to his apartment, there had never been a time he got to show her his bedroom.

.

.

_They find themselves alone in the kitchen long after the party, Harvey washing dishes and Donna drying. They work well in silence for a while, Harvey wordlessly handing Donna plates, their synchronicity uncanny._

_He convinces her to stay for drinks after they finish tidying and he finds himself sitting a little too close to her on the sofa in front of the fire he lit before joining her with a bottle of wine and two glasses._

_"Successful evening," she smiles as he joins her on the sofa, sliding a glass over to her._

_"Can you believe that woman thought we were together?" He chuckles as he fills both glasses to the brim._

_"No, what even gave her that idea… we would be horrible together," Donna chuckles, taking a long sip of her drink._

_"I wouldn't say horrible…"_

_"Harvey, we would kill each other," she laughs a little harder, peering at him from over her wine glass, the knee she had tucked under her brushing against his thigh._

_"I'm not so sure about that, we make a great team."_

_"In the office," she points out, propping her elbow on the back of the sofa and turning to face him._

_"Not just in the office," he smirks, placing his glass down on the table and angling his body towards her._

_"You think we would work? As an item?"_

_"I think it's a good thing we aren't one because me and you together, it would be earth shattering. The cosmos wouldn't know what hit them," he states confidently, the cocky attitude he once sported as a young wanna be lawyer she met at a bar shining through._

_"You're ridiculous," she scoffs, trying hard to ignore the tingling sensation that is pulsing through her at the thought of them being together._

_"I'm just saying, we've got a spark, me and you. The type that could set the Amazon ablaze."_

_"Those are some big words Specter," she rolls her eyes to distract from the fact her pulse is racing._

_"I don't see you denying the claims, Paulsen."_

_"You're such a lawyer."_

_"You like it," he beams, allowing his hand to brush against her arm, his eyes locked on hers as he leaned in ever so slightly._

_"I should, I should go," she says, getting up and shattering whatever moment they were having._

_"Right," he says, getting up and seeing her to the door._

_"Well, thank you for your help tonight. Seriously I never could have done any of this without you," he says as she puts on her coat and waits at the door._

_"You couldn't do a lot of things without me," she smirks, and reaches for the door handle at the same time as Harvey does._

_Their fingers brush before she blushes and retreats, allowing him to open the door for her._

_"We both know, I'd be lost without you," he admits as he steps towards her and pulls her in for a brief, one armed hug._

_"Let's hope you never have to find out what it's like to be lost then," she whispers, her eyes scanning his, her breath hitching in her throat when she realizes how close he's standing to her._

_"Here's hoping," he whispers._

_For a second, she thinks he may kiss her and she panics, her heart racing nearly as fast as her mind._

_"Goodnight, Harvey," she whispers as she steps into the hall, the look in her eye begging him to say something to make her stay, but instead he leans in and whispers 'Goodnight' before closing the door and sinking back against it._

_He was so close to kissing her, to crossing a line she'd made clear she didn't want to cross. He was torn, because as badly as he wanted her, he respected her too much to put her in a position she'd gone the extra mile to avoid being in._

.

.

"Can you believe for as many times I've been to your place, I've never seen your bedroom?"

"It's not at all like I imagined it," she adds, picking up a book off his side table and examining it.

"You've thought about my bedroom?" He smirks, knowing he was playing with fire.

"Only a few dozen times," she winks, walking towards him and taking the bottle from his hand so she can down more of the amber liquid.

"There are definitely less action figures than I expected," she teases, allowing herself to venture over to the other side of the room. She glances over a few books lining his shelf, a photo of his father playing the saxophone and a few empty record sleeves from old jazz bands his father must have taught him about.

"You thought I would have action figures?" He asks, watching as she studies the contents of his shelf, not allowing his gaze to linger on her hips like he wishes it could.

"You quote Star Wars a lot for a grown man."

"Hey, Star Wars is a timeless masterpiece and just because I quote classic lines does not mean I collect toys," he defends as he trails behind her, watching her freshly manicured hands pick up an old ethics textbook so she can read the back cover.

"Didn't mean to touch a nerve," she chuckles, stealing a glance of him before she continues to snoop through his stuff.

"You're nosy," he says, taking his own swig of scotch.

"I'm just trying to get a better understanding of the kind of person you are, nosy would be going through your bathroom."

"What the heck could possibly be interesting about my bathroom?"

"Let's find out,"'she smirks, brushing past him and into the en suite bathroom.

"Donna,"'he calls as he follows her, bringing the bottle with him.

"You're right, nothing of interest," she smirks, peering around briefly before hopping up on the counter and reaching for the bottle.

He studies her as she swings her legs against his counter, her eyes closing as she downs another long sip before returning the bottle to him.

It never failed to amaze him how easily they fell into a rhythm when they were together. It was as though the chaos of earlier that evening no longer existed and it was just the two of them, drinking from an overly priced bottle of scotch in his bathroom while their friends partied on without them.

She hands him the bottle and he accepts it with a small smile. He looked more relaxed then he had during dinner and she can't tell whether it's because he'd been drinking or that he had been freed of the blonde that was glued to his side.

"Where's Mitchell?" He dares to ask as he leans on the wall opposite her.

"God, who knows, holding court in the living room."

"And here I thought you didn't date lawyers."

"Ha, funny," she smirks, studying his relaxed demeanour.

"Where's Melanie?" She asks softly, knowing perfectly well the woman's name was Melina.

"We broke up…"

"Harvey I'm so sorry… I hope it isn't because of anything that happened tonight."

"It wasn't, it was a long time coming."

"All two weeks… sorry, not funny," she allows herself to smile when she sees his somber expression crack with her joke.

She hopped down off the counter and paced across the tile floor, stopping to fix her hair in the mirror before settling on the floor in front of the shower, her back resting against it.

She pats the floor next to her, beckoning him forward and he hesitates before joining her, placing the Macallan bottle between them.

"I really am sorry," she says, playfully nudging his shoulder.

"Thank you. It turns out, she wasn't the one."

"She wasn't?" She peers up him, her chin practically resting against his shoulder.

"I mean, I don't know if I believe in all that 'the one' nonsense, but I know that if I did, she won't be it" he replies, staring straight ahead and taking another swig of scotch.

"I know what you mean," she sighs, bringing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them.

"What about Mitchell?"

"What about him?" She laughs, the alcohol in her system making her bolder than she was a few hours prior.

"Well, you brought him here tonight," Harvey points out.

"Because I didn't want to show up alone," she explains, "it's pathetic."

"Donna, you are the most incredible woman I know. You could never be mistaken for pathetic."

"Do I need to remind you that you didn't even invite me tonight? All because I didn't have a date…"

"Donna… I… that's not why I didn't ask you to come. Melina has always been jealous of our relationship and I didn't want to rub salt in the wound by inviting you."

"What could she possibly have to be jealous about? We're friends…"

"Well for starters, you're beautiful," he practically whispers, turning to met her hopeful gaze, their eyes locking.

She swallows hard, forcing herself to not overthink and accepting the compliment but her stomach flips and she's having a hard time processing anything other than hearing the words "you're beautiful," tumble out of his mouth.

"And she never liked how much time we spent together, how well we know each other."

"Did you tell her we've just worked together for a long time?"

"I did. But she never quite understood I don't think. She couldn't wrap her head around how much you mean to me."

"Harvey, I'm sorry that our relationship came between you… I never meant…"

"Please. Don't apologize. It just wasn't meant to be."

A silence settles between them before Harvey finds the courage to ask her the question that had been eating away at him for hours.

"So you only invited Mitchell tonight because you needed a plus one? You two aren't back together?"

"We're not," she responds, pressing her lips into a fine line as she waits for him to say something in response.

"Oh," is all he manages to say before reaching for the bottle once again, taking a swig and passing it to her so she can do the same. She's lost count of how many times they'd passed the bottle between them, but she can't tell if her body is humming from the alcohol or their close proximity, but she wants to think it's the latter.

"Hey, do you remember that time Cameron caught us drinking his scotch?" He asks, desperate to keep the conversation flowing.

"He was _so_ mad at you," she says with a deviant smile.

"Mad at us," he clarifies, allowing his hand to fall between where his legs were outstretched and her knees were folded beneath her.

"If I'm remembering correctly, you told me it was your scotch," she points out, her smallest finger grazing the edge of his thumb as he spoke.

"I was trying to impress you," he admits, sliding his hand closer so that his thumb covered half her palm.

"I always knew it was Cameron's," she smirks slightly, her hand flipping over so her fingers could slide between his and he squeezes her palm gently before peering down at their interlocked fingers with wide eyes.

They didn't touch. At least not like this. Sure they flirted relentlessly but they never ventured past words. In fact, he could count how many times he'd touched her on one hand. Aside from the other time, there were few instances he allowed himself to touch her because he knew that the way her touch made him come alive would leave him wanting more. The type of more that wasn't within reach.

"Why didn't you say anything?" He whispers, her palm in his setting his skin alive.

For a moment, she isn't sure if he's asking about Cameron or about them, because she's certain he must feel it too, the undeniable spark between them. Between the way his glance lingers and how his body is subconsciously leaning towards hers, she's left with a plethora of unanswered questions.

"I thought it was sweet, you trying to impress me."

"Did it work?" He flirts, his former cocky attitude sneaking through.

"You've always impressed me Harvey. Long before expensive bottles and big shot clients came into the picture."

He watches her with longing, his gaze lingering as he allows his free hand to come up and settle on her cheek as he leaned in. She closes her eyes in anticipation of what's to come, subconsciously snaking her tongue out to moisten her lower lip.

She isn't sure if it's the alcohol talking or the emotions flying high from the heart to heart they just had on his bathroom floor, all she knows is she wants him to kiss her, to take what has been his from the moment they met.

She leans in, her body humming with anticipation as she feels him move closer, his hands drawing her towards him. She hears a heartbeat pulsing in her ears and for a moment she can't tell if it's her own pulse racing or if he's so close she could hear his heart beating.

"There you guys are!" Mikes voice slices through the bubble they found themselves in and Harvey pulls away, slowing dropping his hand from her cheek while Donna's eyes fly open to reveal Mike standing in the doorway, a knowing grin plastered across his face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt," he smirks, glancing from Harvey to Donna and back again.

"You weren't interrupting," Donna mutters as she climbs to her feet and smooths her sweater.

"We just needed a minute away from all the chaos," she adds as Harvey joins her in standing and places the half empty scotch bottle on the counter.

"Right," Mike snickers, not believing a word from either of them.

"We're going time head out and we just wanted to say goodbye," he adds.

"We'll be right there," Harvey calls after Mike, who had already excused himself.

"Donna, I-"

"We should go," she sighs, her hand falling from where she's placed it on his chest before pushing past him with a sad smile and following Mike out to the party to bid him and Rachel goodbye.

.

.

Frazzled and slightly discombobulated, she rejoins the party goers in the living room and peers around, reluctantly searching for Mitchell. Harvey follows silently, parting before reaching the group in the living room to fetch Mike and Rachel's coats.

Rachel watches as Donna's eyes scan the room, a guilt ridden look on her face.

"He left," she says as she comes to stand beside her best friend.

"Oh," Donna says softly, a slight sigh of relief escaping from her lips.

"I'm sorry Donna," Rachel says, pulling Donna in for a side hug.

"It's probably for the best, I don't think it was going to work out with Mitchell," she replies, her eyes settling on Harvey's through the crowd as he returns with the jackets.

Rachel follows Donna's gaze towards Harvey and smirks, "Because of Harvey?"

"What… no…" Donna panics, breaking the eye contact she was making with Harvey and staring down at the floor.

"I notice Melina left," Rachel points out, tilting her head at Donna.

"That doesn't mean…"

"But it could. I see how he looks at you Donna, how you look at each other. What's stopping you?"

Rachel's words resonate with Donna as her friend turns to leave with a small reassuring pat on the arm to fetch her jacket from Harvey. Her friend had no idea she'd just spent the better part of an hour passing a scotch bottle back and forth with Harvey while having a heart to heart on his bathroom floor, and yet, she was still encouraging her to act on her feelings. Feelings she'd buried years ago. Feelings she spent countless hours trying to convince herself didn't exist. Feelings that she knew she couldn't hide for much longer, because her heart belonged to Harvey, it always had and it likely always would.

What _was_ stopping her?

There was her rule. But she'd only instituted that rule because she was afraid. Afraid she would fall for him, or worse that she would fall for him and then lose him.

But lately, things between them had been different.

After watching how protective he'd been when Stephen wronged her, things began to shift back to the way they'd been before _the other time._

In another life, he never would have asked her to come and work for him and she never would have had to have made her rule. They would have fallen in love and lived happily ever after. Only, she knew better than to believe life was a fairytale.

Maybe everything they'd been through, the years of keeping each other at arm's length was what they needed to get them to a place where they could finally be more. Whatever more meant.

Harvey had been different lately. Asking her more about her day, bringing her the occasional coffee, spending time getting to know her better. At first, she attributed his change in attitude to him feeling bad for what happened with Stephen, but deep down, she knew it was more than that. His glances lingered, his smiles went straight to her core and she swears he was going to kiss her a few minutes ago.

They had always been a great team, a dynamic duo but after Stephen, they were Harvey and Donna again. The young litigator and his secretary that were setting out to conquer Manhattan. Only now they were the lawyer and his right hand, and everyone knew that one was not complete without the other. They'd re-established their former flirty relationship and she found herself enjoying spending time with him outside of the office again. She looked forward to their late night drinks, uptown lunches and the list went on. The more she thought about it, the more she realized Rachel had a point. What the hell was holding her back?

She loved him.

She was in love with him.

And it only took her the better part of a decade to admit it to herself.

The real question that remained was, did Harvey feel the same way? A few hours ago he was hosting dinner with someone else, who was to say he was interested in her _that_ way anymore.

Thanking Mike and Rachel for coming, he lingers in the hall for a moment before returning to what's left of the party. There have been several moments over the years where he was ready to kill Mike for his horrid timing, but tonight was topping the chart. He was seconds away from kissing her, from finally reliving the evening that graced a countless number of his dreams, before Mike ruined their moment.

She wasn't his to love, but he loved her anyways.

He loved her laugh, the way she was always right, even when she was wrong and how she always managed to put a smile on his face. He knows this evening started out as a means of moving on, but taking the turn of events in stride, he's decided to embrace what he's known in his heart for a long time.

He couldn't be him without her.

He couldn't love a woman that wasn't her.

He does his best to force a smile as he rejoins the remaining group in the living room, avoiding Donna's gaze while stealing the occasional glance of her from across the room. He makes small talk with Louis all the while his mind is focused on one thing, Donna. Should he just go for it? Tell her how he felt and put it all on the line? She definitely leaned in when he moved to kiss her, there was no doubt in his mind, but did that mean she wanted more?

.

.

The night winds down and Harvey manages to avoid Louis' excessive questions about what happened to Melina until Sheila manages to stop him from asking. Eventually, Louis and Sheila decide to call it a night leaving Harvey and Donna to themselves. After seeing his guests out, he turns to find Donna on the couch, shyly smiling over at him.

"Do you need a hand cleaning up?" she offers.

"You don't have to-"

"I'm offering," she replies.

"Then tell you what, what do you say we finish that bottle of wine," he gestures towards the half empty bottle of red on the coffee table, "and watch a movie first?"

"I have a counter offer," she smirks, folding one leg beneath her on the couch, "What if we clean first and then reward ourselves with the wine?"

"You drive a hard bargain Paulsen, but you've got yourself a deal," he says, moving to collect a few empty glasses off the table. She follows his lead and grabs a few dishes before following him into the kitchen. They wash the dishes in a comfortable silence, Harvey washing, Donna drying and she can't help but grin. After the chaotic mess that was their evening, each of them losing their date, somehow being together, all felt right in the world.

She laughs about a few lame jokes he tells and teases him about his favourite movies and next thing she knows they're settled side by side on the couch, wine glasses in hand.

"Tonight was surprisingly nice," she says, settling against the back of the couch, feet tucked beneath her, arm settled on the back of the sofa.

"It was," he agrees, shifting in his seat and moving closer to her.

"I'm sorry again about Melina."

"No you're not," he says, a devilish smile on his face.

"You're right, I'm not. But I feel like I should be," she says, taking a sip of her wine. She's sure her sudden honesty is a product of all the alcohol she'd consumed, but she liked to believe it was partly due to how fed up she was with her own charade.

"Why's that?" he asks, and she swears he moves closer to her as he speaks.

"I want you to be happy Harvey. Even if that…" she trails off, letting her sentence linger, unfinished.

"If that what?" he whispers, and this time she's certain he moves closer, their knees skimming before he settled back against the dark leather.

She pauses for a moment, considering her words wisely before she calmly continues, placing her wine glass on the table and folding her hands in her lap.

"Even if that happiness doesn't include me."

"Donna, I don't want to live in a world where my happiness has nothing to do with you."

"You don't?"

"I don't know if you know this, but you're my best friend. And I never want to lose you."

"Oh," she replies softly, caught off guard. Her heart sinks when he refers to her as his best friend and once again she fears they're in different places. Of course she was thrilled that he wanted her in his life, but she wasn't sure how much longer she could do this. She didn't want him like a best friend. Being colleagues, she could handle that. But when it came to their non-working relationship, she wanted more.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks, studying her furrowed brow.

"No," she forces herself to smile, a subtle smirk forming on her lips as she continues to try and change the subject, "it's just...Mike is going to be so jealous when I tell him that I'm your best friend."

"He'll get over it," Harvey chuckles, his knee brushing against hers once again.

"I don't know, you're probably going to have to buy him bagels for a least a week to get him to stop pouting," she laughs harder when his face scrunches up at her words.

He watches as she doubles over with laughter at something he hadn't even found that funny and couldn't help but smile. A thought crossed his mind, something his father used to say when he was growing up. He would often sit and offer advice to him and Marcus while they fooled around at the batting cages and although he was young, he father's words stuck with him and guided him through his teen years and into adulthood.

_"There are two things you should never wait to do, open a bottle of scotch and kiss a pretty girl."_

He peers over at her, her eyes wrinkled at the corners as her smile widens with each breath she draws in, trying to steady her laughter. She was radiant. She always had been but something about the way she looked in this moment, her guard down, the pretense between them dropped, he was drawn to her. Tonight reminded him of all those nights they spent drinking scotch alone in his office, nights he would steal glances of her when he thought she wasn't looking and marvel at how beautiful she was. She was then and still was one of the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on.

Once her laughter subsides, her eyes find his and he blushes, having been caught staring.

"What?" she smiles, leaning towards him so their legs were now firmly pressed against one another.

"Nothing," he replies, tearing his eyes away and looking down at his own hands.

"You're just really beautiful," he adds, staring back over at her through hooded eyes.

He dares himself to edge his hand closer to hers, lingering near where her palm is resting on the black leather cushion between them, and he waits for her to say something, anything, that will still his racing heart.

Painfully aware of how close they were now sitting and unable to wait any longer, he opens his mouth to speak again, "You know, when I was growing up my dad used to always tell Marcus and I that when there were two things you should never wait for in life."

"Oh?" she mumbles, her breath hitching as he takes her hand in his.

"First, he told us to never wait to open a scotch bottle."

"Seems fitting," she teases, but despite her calm exterior, she's panicked, unsure of where he was going with this. She knows where she wants him to be taking the conversation, her body humming with anticipation, her hand in his sending a tingling sensation down her arm.

"And the second?" she asks.

"He always said you should never wait to kiss a pretty girl," he says, leaning down so his forehead brushes against hers, his free hand coming up to caress her cheek.

She tilts her head towards his, her entire body now humming with anticipation as she closes her eyes, waiting for his lips to meet hers.

Drawing her closer, he pauses just before his lips can reach hers and whispers, "Donna, I really want to kiss you right now. So, I'm going to kiss you right now."


End file.
